


Humane Godhood

by FanficsbyVe



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4851005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficsbyVe/pseuds/FanficsbyVe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doll realizes things may not be so bad after the Hunter's transformation. Takes place after the Childhood's Beginning ending. One-shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humane Godhood

**Humane Godhood.**

 

“Do not be sad, good Hunter…”

The Plain Doll wonders why she asks that. Why she even reaches that conclusion. Is she really reading him or is her odd, artificial mind interpreting things wrongly, conjuring emotions that may not truly be there?

After all, the little slug-like creature sitting on her lap cannot talk nor can it emote like any of the creatures she has encountered in the Hunter’s Dream. Even the messengers have expressions and she is so attuned to them that she can blindly sense their needs. Still, she has no idea how to deal with a little being whose blood is a merger between humankind and eldritch beings.

She remembers feeling…something when the good Hunter slew her master, the hunter Gehrman,in the burning inferno that was once the Hunter’s Dream. Some feelings were horrible, crippling her. Still, she sensed there was also something else. Like a weight being lifted off her shoulders, similar to the feeling of resting when one was tired. She even recalled feeling…good to some degree. 

Even now, she mulls over whether it was an inappropriate thing to feel and whether it means if she’s broken somehow. Still, she cannot shake all the times she just lay motionless, in a state between sleeping and waking, when Gehrman would use her without so much as a care for her. Something hot and painful wells up at the mere thought of it and once she ties it to the man’s death, a strange calmness takes hold of her. Either way, the liquid that came down her cheeks before stayed gone and she simply stared as the First Hunter finally breathed his last.

Then it appeared. A strange, unworldly being that seemed to pull itself from the moon above. The Moon Presence, she knew. A Great One who seemingly allied himself with humans such as her now late master, though its true motivations were unknown to her. She recalled trembling when the being descended onto the meadow below and its unnatural form slid towards the Hunter.

A sound of horror tore itself from her throat as the being slithered its tentacles around her dear friend. The Hunter, however, did not intend to go quietly. He broke free from the Great One’s hold and pulled out his saw blade, ready to do battle. She watched how he cut into the unnatural flesh and how the Moon Presence screamed. They were the howls of a being that was dying, she knew even then, and a chill had gripped her artificial body.

This world was a dream. That was what Gehrman had said to every hunter that passed through. She knew what dreams were; she too had seen colors and images while asleep. They always disappeared once she woke up and that realization only caused the cold in her chest to increase. If Gehrman was the dreamer and the Moon Presence the driving force of that dream... If her life was tied to that dream…

She recalled calling out to the Hunter, warnings that rapidly blurred into screams. She begged him to stop. If the Moon Presence died, so did the Hunter’s Dream and everything in it. Her world, already burning, would collapse and for the first time in her life, she swore there was ice in her white blood. A thought had entered her head that seemed so foreign then, but she had never felt so convicted in feeling anything before, to the point she no longer wondered if it was artificial or natural.

She did not want to die.

The Hunter, however, ignored her pleas. Coasted in the blood that gave this realm life, he continued to hack away at the Moon Presence. The Great One was now wailing continuously, bellowing out what sounded like cries for mercy. Even if it had spoken the tongues of Men, the Doll had known they would fall on deaf ears. The Hunter simply clamped his free hand around one of its flailing limbs and drove the saw blade into the being’s neck. A last shrill and pitiful shriek escaped its lungs and with the last of its precious blood spurting from its body, it finally collapses.

The Doll had stood there watching it all and her entire frame had trembled. The Moon Presence was dead; the foundation of this world was gone. All that was left was the Hunter, standing motionless over the torn corpse. Overwhelming silence gripped the Hunter’s Dream, only offset by the roaring of the flames that ever increased.

Then, the Hunter collapsed and the ominous silence was ruptured by guttural screams. In her confusion and anticipation for the sky to fall, it took her several moments that they belonged to the fallen warrior. The Hunter lay twitching in the grass, the alien blood coating him seemingly seeping into his skin as his flesh was torn apart. A gray mass burst out from the broken seams, tearing itself from its host in the most painful way possible.

The Doll barely realized that she had leaped into motion. In that moment, it did not matter that the Hunter had torn her world asunder. He was still someone who had been kind to her, the only person in her whole existence that she could remember bothering to do so. She wasn’t going to let him suffer. She rushed over, only to freeze in shock as she reached him.

The Hunter was gone and all that had remained was a strange, slug-like creature that writhed around in a state of distress. 

She sighs as she looks at the creature. She knows it’s the Hunter. She can sense the blood echoes inside it. Still, she cannot fathom how he has now come to resemble the Great Ones from the infinite cosmos or why the Hunter’s Dream is no longer burning. The sky didn’t fall that day, but even now it leaves her with many questions.

The most prominent one right now is what the future may hold. She has managed to figure out how to fulfill the Hunter’s basic needs. Still, she can sense the creature is only in its infancy. Therefore, it will grow, will change. And when it does, will the Hunter’s Dream finally crumble without the Moon Presence to sustain it? Will she slump into oblivion again or even die? Even though she likely should have already?

She does not know and what she feels reminds her of what the hunter once told her about consuming knowledge. About the sensation that one’s head is about to burst and a million conflicting, confusing images pass through one’s mind, sometimes without apparent rhyme or reason. She wonders if that is what it feels like to go mad. It might as well be and there is no one left here to explain anything to her.

She jumps a little as the Hunter emits a strange noise. Concerned, she looks him over. She furrows her brow when she finds no signs of pain or discomfort, only to let out a small shriek as the tentacles near its mouth suddenly wrap around her fingers. 

She jerks on impulse as she tries to get them off her. What is he doing? Is he trying to consume her mind as well, as the Moon Presence tried to do? Is that what he needs to do, what all Great Ones need to do? Endlessly use humanity for their own obscure goals, regarding them as nothing but primitive tools to be used?

The strange noise escapes the Hunter’s throat one last time and it takes several moments for the Doll to notice that he has suddenly stilled. He has more or less curled himself up in her lap, though its body doesn’t indicate any pain or sickness. His eyes flutter shut and after pressing himself up against her hand some more, all that can be heard are the sounds of calm, peaceful breathing. 

The Doll stares at him, puzzled for a moment. Only after a while does it dawn on her that the Hunter has simply gone to sleep. A ton of weight suddenly seems to drop off her shoulders and she can sense her mechanical heart still somewhat. Still, confusion remains. Why has the creature restrained her by wrapping its appendages all around her fingers? Why does he prevent her from going anywhere else?

Then, as the creature gently nuzzles her hand some more, it suddenly hits her. Like the madman of Yharnam become overwhelmed with eldritch revelations, she suddenly experiences unimaginable clarity. It is clear to her now. Why the Hunter’s Dream remains. What exactly the Hunter is. Even why she is still here.

“Oh, good Hunter…”

The Hunter is no longer the young man she once knew, but that does not at all mean that he is truly gone. In the skin of this eldritch being, his humanity persists. While his powers as a Great One sustain this realm of dreams, it is this very humanity that sustains her. She still exists because his humanity does. She lives because he still loves and despite being reborn from the blood of the gods, he is human as well…

The revelation hits her like a ton of bricks and she cannot stop herself from wondering what other traces of humanity the Hunter still has. Compassion? Kindness? Empathy? She is not yet sure, but if he does, the Doll understands that it changes everything.

If he feels those and continues to do so as he matures, he will not entirely be like the Great Ones who helped birthed him. He will match them in power and knowledge; perhaps even outmatch them as he ages. Still, he has the one thing that they do not, that even the people of Yharnam lost in their mad dash to attain godhood. The ability to truly evolve humanity to better beings.

This gives the Plain Doll hope. Hope… Another strange emotion for a supposed artificial being. Even so, she feels it, rather than it being an artificial feeling instilled in her. It is an instinct, one that pulls her out of the dark pits of confusion and despair that she has felt since she first gained awareness. 

It does not matter what she is. Whether she is a Plain Doll that was exquisitely built or actually alive. Whether her feelings are compelled by gears and tubes or by the existence of an actual soul. Trivial things like that should not matter in a town as strange as Yharnam or a realm as outlandish as the Hunter’s Dream. She has a reason to be here, to exist. 

Her duty is to the Hunters. It has always been and it is a greater truth now than ever. She has a duty to love and care for this Hunter. To nurture him and teach him. It is her lot in life to watch over him and guide him, until at last, the day comes for him, or even both of them, to perhaps leave this Hunter’s Dream and to show a torn Yharnam how the universe has forever changed. 

Humanity will be lifted into its next childhood. They will cross a bridge built by splendid union of men and the cosmos, embodying the best of both. The tyranny of the Great Ones is ending and their amoral toying with human pawns is reaching the endgame. It is time for a more humane godhood and the little being, sleeping contently in her arms, will usher in a new age.


End file.
